Singing The Blues
by Cumor
Summary: When a prank doesn't go as planned, Emmett finds himself in hot water. ... Imagine that. No warnings needed for this one. Just a small glimpse as to why, sometimes, it just isn't grand to be Carlisle Cullen.


**Disclaimer:** As y'all know, I am no Stephenie Meyer, but I do whole-heartedly appreciate that she is so generous when it comes to sharing her characters with us. No vampires were hurt in the making of this one shot.

**AN:** I have only one excuse for this... I was bored at work. I was bored and got a image of a rather ticked off Carlisle. That started me wondering what had happened in our little Cullen world. Naturally, I thought Jasper must have been the culprit, but I was mistaken. Here's what really happened. Hope y'all enjoy. It's just a tiny thing, but it makes a nice jumping off point for a story that Em has been at me to write for over a year now. Maybe when "Dark Justice" is done, I can get around to giving Em the love he so desperately craves.

* * *

Carlisle carded his hands through the hair at his temples before lacing his fingers together behind his head while leaning back in his office chair. His obsidian eyes were fixed on the hulking boy standing in front of his desk, nervously shifting from foot to foot. The silence had gone on for several minutes while he allowed the youth to contemplate his recent activity, and consider the consequences that he was due.

Finally, the elder took a slow deep breath and spoke in a firm, low voice. "What have you to say for yourself?"

Large dark eyes flicked up from the carpet for just a moment to meet his father's before Emmett once again looked away as he shrugged in response.

"You have nothing to say in your defense?" Carlisle asked with an incredulous tone.

"Can't think of anything, Pops."

Leaning forward, the elder rested his elbows on the desk while placing his chin atop his entwined fingers and continued to survey his anxious son.

"Emmett, let me give you some advice. This is the only chance you will have to explain yourself and bargain for leniency. I suggest that you think hard, and give me a good excuse for this lunacy before you find yourself unable to sit for the next month."

"I always thought blue looked good on you?" he tried while flashing his father a charming grin.

"Blue shirts, but not blue skin and hair!" the man roared, causing his son to jump back several feet.

"It will wash out, Pops. I swear it will."

"It hasn't yet, and I've loss count of how many showers I've taken."

The bruin scratched his head. "Maybe that was the permanent dye after all. I thought I put that back and got the temporary stuff."

Carlisle closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with one hand. He had never thought that it was possible for a vampire to have a migraine, but his children were determined to prove him wrong.

"Why would you do something like this in the first place?"

"Why did you have to shower in the downstairs bathroom?" the boy countered. "You _never_ do that. You always use your shower. If you hadn't gone weird all of a sudden, you wouldn't be blue."

Carlisle blink in astonishment as he looked at his brawny mischief maker, then spoke in a soft growl. "Not that it's any of your business where I chose to bathe, but on my way home I came across the scene of an accident. I stopped to lend my assistance and wound up with blood on me. I didn't think it would be prudent to leave a scent trail through the house, so I decided to use the nearest shower. _That, _however, still doesn't explain why I'm blue! Why was there blue dye in the water line, Emmett Dale Cullen? And this better be good."

"It was just a joke, Pops — a joke meant for little Eddie. He's been a real pill these last couple of weeks with his moping and sad ballad playing, so I figured if he was blue, he might as well _really_ be blue."

Carlisle rubbed his eyes and released a low groan before glaring at his son. "How many times must I tell you to limit your practical jokes to harmless ones?"

"This was harmless. It should have faded by now, and Ed should be the colorful one anyway, not you. _That_ wasn't my fault."

The patriarch's mouth fell open, but before he could speak, his son rushed on.

"I got Eddie all skunked up during our hunt this afternoon so he would hit the shower ASAP — the downstair one. No one ever uses it, so the plan was foolproof. How was I to know that Mom would stop him at the door and refuse to let him in the house? It's not like I can see the future like Ali can," Emmett protested. "Mom took him around back to hose him off and rub him down with a paste of baking soda while Jazz and Ali ran to the store for tomato juice." The youth's eyes gleamed as he quickly smiled. "Oh, and let me tell you, Pops, you really missed the show. You should have seen Eddie's hair foam when I dumped vinegar over him. It was awesome!"

While Emmett's grin broadened, his father seemed much less amused. Giving a short nervous cough, the bearish boy looked away from the man's penetrating gaze and reduced the enthusiasm in his tone.

"No, huh? Still say you don't know what you missed. Guess you just had to be there. Anyway, that's what we were doing when you came home, so I never had a chance to remove the dye pack, but since you never use that shower..." He shrugged his massive shoulders again. "It's just a weird accident because you have incredibly crappy timing, but it's not all bad. I hear the smurf look is going to be big this summer."

"EMMETT!" The patriarch slammed his hand against the desk top hard enough to open a new crack in its aging veneer. "This is nothing to joke about. I can't go to work looking like this."

"Just tell folks that you're auditioning to join the Blue Man Group."

Carlisle was on his feet in an instant. In that same instant, Emmet had backed up as far as the small room would allow, and now stood with his vulnerable posterior plastered against the wall for protection.

"Seriously, Pops. The Blue Man Group is awesome. People love 'em, and they would love to know someone trying to join."

"Emmett, come here."

"Nuh uh."

The previously blond haired elder raised a brow while folding his arms over his broad chest.

"Did you just tell me 'no', young man?"

"Nuh uh. I told you 'nuh uh', which is entirely different."

"Emmett Dale." Carlisle spoke in a deadly calm voice. "You have exactly five seconds to get your behind over here."

"My behind respectfully declines. It's just fine where it is."

"One."

"Come on, Pops."

"Two."

The boy shook his head.

"Three. Emmett you really don't want me to reach five," the patriarch warned as his eyes turned a shade darker.

"Damn skippy, I don't."

"Four!" The muscles in the patriarch's jaw twitched while he ground his teeth in frustration.

"Damn, Pops. Did you hunt earlier? You're turning purple."

"Fiv... Wait. What?"

Emmett nodded. "Like a grape jolly rancher."

Carlisle turned to catch his reflection in the window and groaned loudly. His morning meal was now bringing a flush to his cheeks, turning him an awful shade of plum.

Slumping down in his chair, the elder pinched the bridge of his nose so hard he suddenly feared that he would pop it off.

"Son, go to your room. Consider yourself grounded for two weeks or until I'm back to my normal color; whichever takes longer."

"Aw, really, Pops?"

Carlisle's head shot up to give his boy a venom chilling glare.

"Sounds fair. It's all cool," the bruin quickly backpedaled, while raising both hands in a pacifying manner.

"And you will scrub out that shower until not a trace of blue remains. Do I make myself clear?"

"Loud and clear, Grape Ape."

A low growl rumbled in the patriarch's chest as he started to stand, but his son was gone in a flash, no doubt to seek the safety of his worried mate's arms, leaving the fuming blue man alone to sort out the mess.

"Why did I have to turn teens? If I had gone with a slightly older age group, I wouldn't have these issues. Amun and Tanya never have to worry about turning blue." Carlisle sighed as he reached for the phone. "You did this to yourself, Cullen. Ultimately, you did this to yourself."

As the call connected, a voice interrupted the elder's thoughts.

"Andy? Oh good. This is Carlisle. I'm so glad I caught you. I was wondering if you could cover my shifts for the remainder of the week? I'm feeling a touch under the weather, and don't want to risk contaminating the patients. Oh no, I'm sure it's nothing serious. I'm just feeling a little blue."


End file.
